


These Changing Times

by lovelyleias



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, I have yet to decide, I might continue this or leave it as a stand alone, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleias/pseuds/lovelyleias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosette is pouring coffee when she remembers. One moment she’s enjoying the bitter smell as the black liquid spills into two chipped mugs. The next, she’s gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Changing Times

Cosette is pouring coffee when she remembers. One moment she’s enjoying the bitter smell as the black liquid spills into two chipped mugs. The next, she’s gone. 

_Freezing cold. Cruel laughter. Bruised arms. Broken dolls. Old man. Jean Valjean. Papa. Safety. Gorbeau. Fauchelevant. Convent. Marius. Love. Heartbreak. Give him this letter, please. Rebellion. Joy. Marriage. Her sweet father. Death. Home. Child. England. Back to France. Another child. Reading stories. Singing songs. His arms around her in the night. Loving whispers. Laugh lines. Grandchild. Grey hair. Marius is gone. Loneliness. Peace. A shuddering breath. Nothing._

She rushes back to consciousness with a strangled cry. Her legs tremble and she falls to the kitchen floor. Oh god, it seems like a dream, but the memories are surely her own. A whole different and impossible life. And the people she most cared about, their lives had been cut so short. 

“‘Ponine,” she croaks out, her voice sounding as old as she had been in her final memory. “Éponine!” 

The sound of padding footsteps approaches from down the hall of their cramped apartment. 

“Hey, what’s up—fuck!” Éponine rounds the corner and finds the pale and shaking Cosette curled up on the floor. She immediately swoops down and wraps her arms around her girlfriend, Cosette’s long hair tangling around Éponine’s fingers. Cosette presses her face into Éponine’s shirt and begins to sob.

“Shhh, sweetie, everything's fine,” Éponine rubs gentle circles on Cosette’s back. 

Cosette sits up, tears cutting through her smudged mascara. “Don’t you remember? Please tell me you do, I can’t do this by myself.” 

Éponine shakes her head, trying to keep her voice level. “You’re freaking me out, what’s going on?” 

And then she remembers.

_Laughter. Pretty things. Azelma. Wonderful dresses. A new and nameless little boy. The back of papa’s hand. Paris. Two more boys who are sent away. Sold shoes. Sold virginity. Hunger. Montparnasse’s sweet face and rough fingers. Her thoughts don’t always make sense anymore. The boy next door. Marius. Prison. Death. Sometimes she’s not sure what’s real and what’s in her head. Release. Letters. Fights. Barricades. A gun in his face. A hole in her heart. Pain, by god, so much pain. Nothing._

Éponine comes back to her senses with a violent gasp. She stumbles away from Cosette and vomits into the sink. Cosette rises to her feet and waits quietly, trying to ignore the way her hands tremble. Éponine’s gagging ceases and she rinses out her mouth. Cosette takes her gently by her hand and leads her to the bedroom. 

The girls strip their clothes and clamber weakly into the bed, craving close comfort. Cosette ignores Éponine’s vomit-breath, and Éponine ignores the snot crusting around Cosette’s nose.

They tangle their limbs and close their eyes, breathing softly in tandem. 

“I was horrible to you,” Éponine groans after a moment. 

“Hush,” Cosette presses a kiss to Éponine’s collarbone. “We were children and it was a lifetime ago. What I don’t understand is why this happened at all, and why it’s happening now.”

“I don’t know,” Éponine murmurs, pulling the blankets around her bare skin. “But I think I should be happy that I died young.” 

Cosette frowns and wrinkles her nose. That was not something she wanted to hear. “I loved Marius. I married him, we had kids.”

“I loved him, too.”

“I know. He told me.”

Despite their shock, the girls share a little laugh at the fact that they had once loved their very good friend instead of each other.

“Not everything’s different, though,” Éponine muses. “You’re parents are dead. Mine are shit. We’ve known each other since we were kids. The Musain is where we always hang out.”

Cosette nods and pulls Éponine closer. “But _Les Amis de L’ABC_. In the past, I’d really only known their names, but in this life they’re our best friends.”

She feels Éponine shrug. “I wonder why some things changed.”

At nearly the same time, their phones on the bedside table blow up with texts and phone calls. The girls opened their eyes for the first time since they had collapsed under the covers.

“That’ll be everyone else, right?” Éponine whispers. “If we remember, then they must, too.” 

Cosette reaches past Éponine and shuts both phones off. “They’ll want to meet and talk. We can deal with them later. I just want to be with you.” 

Éponine trails her fingers down Cosette’s spine. “No matter what happened before, I’ll love you in this life, and in any other that we might live.”

Cosette grins and replies with a silent kiss. They fall asleep in a tangle of blankets and limbs, their minds awhirl with confusion of tragedies long forgotten.


End file.
